


so close, yet so far away

by lilybluee



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 12:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilybluee/pseuds/lilybluee
Summary: hoseok hasn't been home in almost a year.





	so close, yet so far away

☘

Hoseok hasn’t been home in almost a year.

The neighbourhood remains the way it has always been, silent and mournful, dark and cold, so cold Hoseok’s teeth are already chattering, and the goosebumps gnaw their way up his skull. He wraps his scarf tighter around his neck and catches a last waft of Kihyun’s cologne, probably from that time he’d borrowed it for a quick trip to the grocery store. Kihyun is notorious for stealing garments and notebooks and anything that glimmers in gold or beige and shines brighter than seas in midnight hour. He and Minhyuk had to confiscate wardrobe keys from his death grip and retrieve their stolen goods on a weekly basis. Hoseok came close to losing it when he’d woken up one morning with a light arm from a missing expensive watch.

He walks up the patio with his large suitcase and counts down the seconds. He stares at the conspicuous house plants arranged in rows and rows on either side of him, and Hoseok, not for the first time in his years of being, wonders if his mother is actually related to plant witches or forest nymphs or something cool of the sort. She’d always knew what herbs to use, what tea leaves to pour, what the house lacks in terms of coziness because one parent can only do so much.

He hears her loud steps before the door wrenches open in a tornado roll. Hoseok drops his bag to catch her in his arms. The sweet smell of snickerdoodles wraps around his brain in thin foliage and he gets choked up.

“Welcome home, baby.”

Hoseok squeezes her in his arms for something close to a minute before Yeorum mewls loudly in complains. Hoseok drops to his knees, and the large ball of fluff jumps on him and nuzzles him aggressively.

“Hey, missed me?”

Yeorum keeps mewling in her deep grumpy voice. Hoseok cries a little (a lot) from the rare display of affection. He’d always had to chase her around the house to get a pat or two.

“I thought she’d forgotten all about me.”

His mother stands back with crossed arms, a kind smile and gentle, tired eyes. “She kept sleeping in your room while you were gone. She was very sad when you left, Hoseokkie. You should’ve called more, or at least visited once.” Her tone isn’t reproaching, but even if it were, Hoseok wouldn’t fault her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you’re home now.”

“I’m glad to be.” And Hoseok _is_ glad to be home, he really is. He’d left last summer for his third year of college and engaged body and soul in his assignments, research papers, projects and all those fun college things that gave him migraines and made him drop weight so fast he had to seek medical attention for a short while (he’ll never mention this last part to her). Minhyuk took him out to parties, and Kihyun forced him into coffee breaks. _You’re being self-destructive hyung_ , he used to say, _this is not right, please be kinder to yourself_.

He holds Yeorum close to his chest while his mother gets his luggage for him. Out of the corner of his eye, Hoseok catches a figure lurking by the windows of the house facing theirs. Familiar like the taste of childhood discontinued candies. Hoseok hits the door and his breathing stutters.

Ignoring the burn in his veins, he follows inside. 

There’s something surreal about waking up on the bed that’s accompanied you through childhood and teenagehood, through joyous feasts and kind days, through heartaches and not-so-kind days. His mother made sure to dust off the shelves and change his bed sheets and add a sprinkle of life to his once abandoned room. Plants align his windowsill, and when Hoseok turns his head to face the wall, sunshine streaks his eyes and warms his cheeks, a light breeze ruffles the leaves, it puts the room in a symphony hold.

Something shifts by his feet. Hoseok gets swarmed with dark fur and a clingy old cat that wraps around his neck, grooms his chin and purrs in his ear. He keeps petting Yeorum until he nods off for another hour.

He wakes to his mother running her fingers through his hair. “Run some errands for me?”

Hoseok nods. She takes a sleeping Yeorum from his chest and goes downstairs. The house is already unfurling in sweet baked cookies. Hoseok tries to not get carried off by nostalgic waves or walk into flashbacks territory because the day is just starting, he still has two more months for that.

He takes a light breakfast (as light as it gets with all the baked goods in the house), and grabs an eco bag from the stack of eco bags his mother loves hoarding for the sake of forgoing plastic bags and saving the weeping environment. This one is Starry Night themed. He bolts outside with a quick goodbye, trains his eyes over the creepy plants and prays silently for some good will and a safe joyful day, all the while keeping his eyes from wandering upward.

The grocery store is ten minutes away (five if he sprints). Hoseok walks on eggshells and thinks back to all the art projects he’d been planning for summer break. He brought some tools with him, hence the overpacked suitcase. Minhyuk had also slipped in his bag some thrifted yarn he got him as his token of love and a long winded poem pointing all the crucial ways they’d helped each other out through three years of rooming together. In moments like those, Hoseok would remember that Minhyuk is actually pursuing a degree in literature, and his words could pierce the hearts of the cold blooded and turn them into neighing teary stallions. Kihyun’s power resides in his gift of capturing moments in their rawest unfiltered state, camera around his neck and soft clicks when Hoseok least expects it. He gave him a photo album with such beautiful shots it fueled Hoseok’s muse and made him paint two portraits of his best friends in one night.

Hoseok loses himself in birch trees and wide looming mountains, almost steps on a snail lurking outside the bushes. He carefully places it back in the already yellowing grass and saunters down the street while waving at an old lady whom he has no recollection of ever meeting, but is probably a close friend of his mother.

He gets to the grocery store in fifteen minutes, says his hello, but it gets stuck in his throat at the sight of the clerk ringing up for some customers.

“Hyung!” 

“Im Changkyun, the man you’ve become.”

He blushes so easy, a girl smiles in secret before she mutters a quick thanks and leaves the store. The old couple remains stone faced, and once they leave, Hoseok gathers Changkyun in a tight hug and twirls him a few times in air.

“Hyung, I’ve missed you so much, oh my god.”

Hoseok smiles at him. “You’ve really grown, it’s been a minute.”

Changkyun is his protégé from elementary school, back when kids used to think befriending someone your senior is the coolest thing ever. Hoseok loves the kid, has watched him grow like a proud adoptive parent and he’s only like, three years older. He notices the painted glittery nails, the eyebrow piercing, the tiny tattoo on the inside on his wrist.

“Channeling your inner goth, I see,” he says and nudges him playfully.

Changkyun laughs. “Hyung, you’ve dyed your hair pink too, pastel suits you well.”

“Thank you, it cost me a scalp, but that’s okay.”

They exchange numbers fast because a line is already forming, some red in the face. Hoseok walks towards the isles to pick the ingredients his mother had scribbled for him on a piece of paper. Changkyun rings him up as well, and Hoseok gives him an affectionate pat on the head and leaves the store.

Today’s sun comes straight from hell. It’s not even full summer yet, and Hoseok is sweating his weight and pushing his limbs through wet sand. He rounds the last corner where the house comes in view at last, but he bumps into someone and stumbles back with a burning nose.

Hands wrap around his arms. “Hoseok?” 

He opens his eyes slowly, carefully, because fairy tales are a thing –were a thing, once –and this feels very much like one. Hoseok used to always be the princess in a play, his excuse to try on the pretty dresses that were off limits for boys. Adults used to treat it as a joke, so he treated it as a joke too and twirled in tutus and recited love confession to princes and let his mother put pink blush on his cheeks, all in good humor, of course

Only one person saw through it all, stood with him with no judgment in their eyes.

“Hyunwoo?”

He stands wider, a couple inches taller, which is by no means fair because Hoseok has only grown the two inches at the start of the school semester and remained the same height through the rest of the year. There are red highlights in his hair, beautiful black studs dotting his earlobes. Hoseok remembers with a jolt that they’re the ones he’d gifted him three years back on his eighteen’s birthday.

Hyunwoo looks him up and down twice before he steps closer and embraces him. “Hi,” he breathes out, “This place missed you, Hoseokkie.”

“Hi,” Hoseok says, a deep ache below his lungs taking spark. “I missed you, too.”

The first time they met, Hoseok was six, Hyunwoo was seven and their mothers were newly acquainted neighbors. Hoseok hid behind his mother’s legs and kept staring at the boy with the funny glasses and the bewildered look in his eyes. He looked like his most beloved teddy bear, the one Hoseok hugs to sleep when the monsters beneath his bed whisper harsh words and tarnish his dreams. Hoseok kept staring until the boy gave him a toothy grin, disturbingly warm for a first meeting.

He remembers accompanying Hyunwoo on secret trips up mountains, down gurgling rivers and through trees so tall Hoseok could never spot peaks and summits. People in his hometown still grow their own food and take care of their own cattle, so finding heavy green pomelos hanging off tree branches or edible mushrooms sprouting from trunks was his norm, and never once did he find it jarring to snack on berries or pick corn for his mother on his way back until he moved out for college and got whiplashed with culture shock. 

Hoseok can’t remember the number of times they’ve got in trouble for staying out late in the forest. Hanging out with Hyunwoo was so much fun the concept of time would slip his mind until the moon peeked in and they would hurry home before spirits of the night could start their patrol of the area. His mother loved spooking him with ghost stories to cut down some of his mischief. Hoseok always sneaked out to meet Hyunwoo by the foot of the hill.

Hyunwoo, his childhood best friend whom he hadn’t contacted in almost a year.

Hyunwoo’s mother is as petite and sweet as he remembers her to be, and the moment Hoseok steps foot in their household, she runs to her room to retrieve her seven inches heels to get on the same height level. Hoseok catches an eye roll from her son. Though fragile looking, her hugs could bruise the flesh but inevitably warm the heart.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, sweetheart.” She draws back, smiley and a little more tired than what Hoseok’s memories play back. Her apron and ribbon match in bright blue, as do the tablecloth and the house slippers, expect for one red pair that naturally belong to Hoseok. He’d already delivered the ingredients to his mother before coming here.

“Tea works fine, right?” She asks, already opening cupboards, probably looking for the kettle.

Hoseok considers refusing, but Hyunwoo’s hand on his shoulder makes him lose the protest. Withering roses in a vase catch his eye.

“Hyunwoo thought you were coming home last spring break,” she says. “They didn’t last long, unfortunately.”

“It’s okay,” Hyunwoo says, “I’ll get to them, one day.”

Hoseok comes to learn later that Hyunwoo’s bed still fits them just fine. Their limbs, of course, overlap, and his head rests on Hyunwoo’s arm.

“You’re making this up,” Hoseok says. “I don’t believe you.”

“Coincidently, Lisa called me yesterday to update me on their trip. They eloped a week ago with her dad’s old battered trunk. They’re currently in Seoul with her sister.”

The fan turns from right to left, from left to right, tickles the sweat in his joints, ruffles the hair strands off his forehead. Summers here are harsh and houses are still not equipped with ACs. Hoseok’s muscle memory recalls the agony, the feeling of melting bones and the drilling heat into his skin tissue. The muscles in his calve convulse into spasm. Hyunwoo, fascinated, keeps poking at the denting skin.

“Have they always hid it, or it was something recent?” Hoseok asks while looking outside the window. The sky is clear today, and occasionally a cloud flutters past and blinds the glaring sun.

“They started dating last year, just when you left. Jennie was the one who told me, she also asked me to keep it a secret from their folks.”

Hoseok nods, “They’re safe now, I hope.”

“Yeah, they’re okay. Lisa’s sister is more accepting of the whole thing.”

Hoseok nods again and listens with clear interest to everything Hyunwoo says. He’s missed a lot in his absence. He stares mindlessly at the Eva Green poster he remembers a sixteen years old Hyunwoo fretting over while deep in his _The Dreamers_ obsession, _ain’t she lovely? Hoseokkie, ain’t she sweet?_ and Hoseok would nod because he can still appreciate beauty in all ways presented to him.

He closes his eyes and what light wind croons in his ear, carries him away.

There’s something surreal about waking up on the bed of your best friend after months and months of not seeing each other, of not exchanging a single word or a simple greeting.

Hyunwoo is every bit the loud snoring, heavy sleeper he has known him to be, and the clingy arm he has around Hoseok’s waist feels comforting in its familiarity. They used to have sleepovers five nights a week, and it would’ve been seven nights a week if it weren’t for Hyunwoo’s father coming to pick him up on weekends.

 _I don’t like it_ , an eleven year old Hyunwoo had complained to him once, _I don’t like it when he comes after me, his girlfriend is mean, and he keeps yelling every ten seconds._

 _I’m sorry,_ Hoseok had replied in tears, _I_ _wish I could do something about it, I don’t like it either._

_If it ever comes to it one day, would you escape with me, Hoseokkie?_

Hoseok never promised anything to anyone so fast in his life. He was ready to throw everything and follow Hyunwoo to the bottom of the seas, if he ever decided that’s the safest place for them to be. Eventually, none of them had to, because not even a month later, his drunk father crashed his car into a tree and died on the spot.

Hyunwoo couldn’t eat for a week from guilt and grief. Hoseok used to force him out to the forest for some air, used to threaten to bird feed him if he didn’t take his breakfast, used to hug him tight to squeeze the sadness away, he never liked seeing him sad. He always painted Hyunwoo with a bright smile and gleaming irises, a hint of melancholy at the corner of his eyes, lightly downturned lips. A sad Hyunwoo is like wronging the universe, when the sky is on the verge of its third fit of a thunderstorm and the waves are more on the agitated scale, hardly the good omen he’d perceived.

Hyunwoo’s arm jostles when Hoseok sits up and rubs his eyes, the fan still clinking in the afternoon sun. Some fleeting aroma from the gardens bellow puts him in a weird reverie and stirs cold dread in his guts. Hoseok looks down, where the covers hang off his propped up knee and circle Hyunwoo’s rhythmically moving chest. Hyunwoo’s shirt slips down his right shoulder, revealing the tiny star they both got on a whim as their first matching tattoo in secret. Hoseok’s own star sits in hiding on the same spot, below his collarbone, well loved despite its imperfections, despite the sketchy dimly lit garage they got it in. It was their high school friend, Hyungwon, experimenting on their skin for free. Hoseok has his regrets, but this one isn’t listed.

He traces Hyunwoo’s star with his finger, guides it up to where Hyunwoo’s pulse thrums. He doesn’t startle when he finds Hyunwoo’s eyes on him.

They’ve always been his favorite thing about him, the way his eyes would crinkle in complete delight when a child gives him a spontaneous hug and runs back to their parent, or when Yeorum decides to be clingy for a change and naps on his chest, occasionally nuzzling his jaw.

“I hate naps, feels like waking up from death,” Hyunwoo croaks at last, stretches on the bed and completely swarms Hoseok’s personal space. “I dream of the weirdest things.”

“What did you dream of?” Hoseok asks

“Something sad.”

“You can’t remember?”

Hyunwoo shakes his head. “I just remember that you were there, the smell of jasmine lotion was undeniable.”

“Maybe it’s because you sniffed me while asleep.”

Hyunwoo takes his wrist, gentle like handling glass, smells his skin and hums. “Yep, you were with me, in my dream, like it’s always been.”

Hoseok wakes up very early the next morning and keeps shaking Hyunwoo up until his wrists starts cramping from strain, it feels like moving a deep rooted boulder with twigs as his medium.

“You sleep like the dead, Hyunwoo, you scare me sometimes,” he laments while trying to scratch off the ache in his neck. They migrated yesterday to Hoseok’s home, post a leisure stroll in their hometown with Hyunwoo’s mission to hurl Hoseok at nostalgic typhoons that hurt more than he’d like to admit.

He runs to the bathroom and splashes his pale face with cold water. The heat is sizzling outside, but the morning chirping bugs and the tweeting birds shape the room a little better, make the hilted dagger push in less.

Hoseok walks back in and finds Yeorum claiming the spot on Hyunwoo’s back, paws folded beneath her and eyes of a hunter following close the sparrows occasionally hitting the windowsill. He takes her in his arms and jabs at Hyunwoo with his foot.

“Wake up, I have things to do, I need your help.”

What Hoseok needed help in was harvesting dark purple grapes from the large crops in the fields fifteen minutes away. They got the work-out of their lives, with a sun so like the flames from hell and a stifling warm air dripping sand down their throats. 

When they get back, Hyunwoo runs to the shower first, and Hoseok sits in the backyard with his baskets overflowing in grapes and a sharp kitchen knife to cut the clusters off. A large bowl sits in the middle between his legs, and he starts the tedious task of peeling one grape at a time.

Hyunwoo comes down in the next five minutes, refreshed and already tanner than when he’d woken up this morning. He’s always been the one to tan easy, his bronzed skin shimmering by sunsets, Hoseok giving in to the prospect of glitter coming off his cheekbones and staining his curious fingers, but it’s only Hyunwoo and his warm skin and the crinkly eyes at the ridiculous thought, _cute of you to think I’m made of glitter_. Hoseok has a lot of ridiculous thoughts. Hyunwoo tends to humor them all.

Just like how he’s now reaching for a stool to get on the same task of peeling two huge baskets full of grapes. “What are they for?”

Hoseok hands him the knife. “I want to use the skin in dyeing the shirt I’ve made early this year.”

“Why don’t you just buy regular dye from the store, this seems like a lot of work,” Hyunwoo says, cursing softly when the first grape slips his fingers.

“Hyunwoo, you don’t get it, this has been on my bucket list since forever. I’ve watched this beautiful Chinese woman doing it online with her dress, and the colour came out so natural, of course I had to try it.”

Hyunwoo retrieves his phone and puts on slow heavy songs that are at times sexy, and at others straight up heartbreaking. His phone case has tiny Soohorang and Bandabi holding hands (paws?) and looking upward with big freaky eyes. At some point through their second basket, Hyunwoo’s shorts ride up his thighs to reveal something in black ink the size of Hoseok’s pinky, thin lined with detailed flower pots.

Hoseok almost slits his palm in his headiness. “Is that, is that a rabbit? Hyunwoo, is that a rabbit on your inner thigh?”

Hyunwoo quirks his head, looks down to where the bunny gnaws on a carrot. He smiles. “Hyungwon improved, don’t you think?”

“When did you get it?”

“Like a month –no, two months ago? It was an early graduation gift. I named him bun, short for bunny, do you like him?”

He can’t look away. “I love him, he’s so cute.”

“You should get a matching one with me.”

Hoseok laughs, and this time he gives his finger a shallow cut. Hyunwoo takes the knife from him. “Except I’ll get an asian black bear, I’ve always loved bears, cuddly and deadly, they could tear my throat open and I would still want to pat them, does that mean I’m weird?”

“No, it means you have no self-preservation.” Hyunwoo stands up first, offers Hoseok a hand and helps him to his feet. “You can go shower now, I’ll finish up the rest.”

Nights like these, in which Hoseok rocks back and forth on his grandma chair, all his focus on the two large needles and the yarn trapped beneath his socked foot that Yeorum keeps trying to wrench free for calamity and personal enjoyment, that Hoseok is fully convinced everything is in decent order again. 

“Go away, I’ll stomp on you.”

Hyunwoo comes to the rescue and snatches the disobedient old cat in his arms. She trashes her little paws like a kraken and mewls in angry booms. “There there, don’t scratch my face.” He rests his back to the couch and somehow manages to hypnotize Yeorum into stillness that is equal parts fascinating and eerie. Hoseok feels bad for not sacrificing one bundle of yarn, but they’re Minhyuk’s gift and he’s determined to use them to the last fiber for his knitted pieces.

The TV hosts a stupid rom-com that makes them laugh every now and then. The living room’s windows are ajar, fan creaking in the middle of the space. It’s a hot night, no winds trickling inside and reviving the dampened spirit. Hyunwoo, in his shorts and tank top, is melting against the couch, his cheeks flushed like pomegranate seeds, the veins in his hands straining beneath his skin. Hoseok keeps peeking secretly at his little bunny.

It’s a very familiar setting. This living room has watched them grow through the summers, has carried their sleepovers and echoed back their muffled laughter whenever they were staying up way past bedtime. Hoseok used to get piles of books from their local library and read them together with Hyunwoo, the stolen flashlight from the kitchen’s cabinet burning their eyes and tiring them fast. They dreamed so much about dragons and talking cunning foxes, about princesses in tower chambers and brave knights on galloping horses, about colorful lives and wonders that could never make it to reality. 

“Hyunwoo, honey you’re here?” Hoseok’s mother walks inside the house, yet another plant cradled to her chest, probably picked up from the greenhouse near her office. She ruffles Hyunwoo’s hair and gives Yeorum a gentle bop on the nose on her way to the kitchen. That seems to awaken the devil because Yeorum trashes relentlessly and Hyunwoo lets her go at last. She runs to the end of the sofa and fixes headily the yarn.

“Seriously, go away, I’ll prick you.” Hoseok swats at her.

Hyunwoo joins Hoseok’s mother and reaches immediately for a pot to help her transfer the plants. Hoseok hardly stirs from his place, careful not to wreck some stitches and redo the whole thing. He’s only picked up knitting last semester, therefore an amateur, therefore open to many mistakes for the sake of honing his skills. His ears twitch at the voices coming from the kitchen.

“They’re called Sansevieria, or snake plants,” his mother says distantly. “They’re sturdy, easy to take care of, can go five weeks with no water, purify the oxygen, really nice to have around.”

“Auntie, they’re lovely I’m sure, but Bougainvilleas might just be my favorite plants in the world.”

“Hyunwoo dear, those are hard to take care of, especially in winter, don’t you remember how I had you help me prune them in winter break and you got a thorn stuck in your thump and your mother almost sued me?”

Hoseok can hear him laughing from here.

“I was just not careful enough,” he says. “They bloomed wonderfully in spring, so I do believe it was worth it.”

“You should come with me next time to the plant nursery, there are so many flowers I’d like you to learn about.”

Hoseok sits watching passively the tv screen, eyes glazed over and the yarn finally in Yeorum’s paws.

The video display loads to a sleepy Kihyun in rattled nest hair and scrunched up nose.

“Wait, you were asleep?” Hoseok frowns. “Kihyunnie, it’s eight pm.”

“Hyung, I was up at five in the morning to babysit my brother’s kids while he went out on a date with his wife.” He yaws and rubs his eyes. “Let’s just say I was not prepared.” He sits cross-legged in boxers and white tee, a bandana tied around his head. “Anyway, is life kind to you? Should I gather the troops and ride at dawn? Did you find love? I’m eager to hear about it, spill everything hyung.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Life is kind enough, thank you for your concern.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t liquefied yet, I’ve heard the temperature in your region goes up to forty five degrees celsius.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t either.” Hoseok pauses and narrows his eyes. “Is that Minhyuk’s favorite bandana you have on?”

Hoseok jumps ten feet up when locks of bleached hair swarm the cam. At first he thinks it’s a tabby cat inspecting curiously the moving screen, but he quickly retracts that thought because tabby cats do not smile with stained teeth from red skittles, neither do they screech like poor captured dolphins.

“Shut your mouth, you’ll wake the demons up,” Kihyun hisses.

“Hoseokkie, love, it’s been ages,” Minhyuk says and makes kissy faces at him.

“It’s been two weeks,” Hoseok rectifies.

“That’s still a very long time in my book. How have you been?” he asks and leans fully on Kihyun’s side.

Hoseok keeps staring, he doesn’t notice when Yeorum joins him on the bed and lounges on his thighs, neither does he notice when Minhyuk starts cooing at his beloved grumpy cat. “Wait, something doesn’t add up, why are you with Kihyunnie? I thought you were going to spend summer break with your boyfriend.”

They give him identical smiles. It clicks in an instant, and Hoseok very nearly cuts off the call. “Oh wow, I’m hurt and betrayed.” He pouts. “Why leave me clueless? I thought we were good friends.”

In retrospect, he did sense some dynamic change in the middle of the school year. They’re all affectionate dudes who shower together and share heat by cuddling in winter season. One time, while they were getting ready to go out on a coffee break, a startled Kihyun turned his head and got accidently kissed by Minhyuk on the lips instead of his cheek. They laughed it off, but Kihyun blushed to his ears and fixed the floorboards like it personally offended him and his extended family.

“Sorry, Hoseokkie,” they say in unison.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice, though,” Kihyun adds and scratches his arm.

“It’s not like you guys were ever loud or anything.”

“Oh,” Kihyun says, and Minhyuk sits upright. He’s also in boxers and a tank top, golden necklace gleaming by the warm light. “That’s because we’re not into the physical aspects of things.”

“Not at all,” Minhyuk affirms, “It’s messy and sweaty and not worth the pain, no pun intended.”

Kihyun bursts out laughing, looking adorable with the dimpled apple cheeks.

Hoseok groans and transcends to space. Everything is torturously vivid in his mind. “Oh my god.”

“TMI, sorry,” Minhyuk says, a little flustered.

“It’s okay, you look cute together, I’m happy for you, just don’t make me feel too much like a third wheel,” he pauses, then adds weakly, “please.”

Kihyun keeps giggling into Minhyuk’s shoulder, tiny frame rippling in waves.

Hoseok’s heart bunches up in a fist. “Love looks pretty on you.”

“Thanks, but hyung, buckle up she’s on her way to hit you like a train wreck.”

Hoseok doesn’t mention how he’s still picking himself up from the wreckage.

Though he has missed on a lot, Hoseok regrets this the most.

He was sitting in the backyard, sketching the couple plants scattered inside the house, inquiring about the name of each one to jot down on his sketchbook. He practically goes through at least four of sketchbooks a year, his hand constantly itching to capture fleeting moments through his own lenses and perception at the time, something that he’s grateful to his eleven year old self for picking up as a hobby and investing tears and energy into. He has volumes of books dedicated to the mountains; the gorgeous landscape his favorite thing to sketch over and over again. There’s always something new to discover, something not spotted before, a hunched birch tree here, weeping willows there, bleeding heart plants that take away what little breath he has left after hours of hiking.

He was just getting started on the newly adopted serpent plants when Hyunwoo bulldozed in with the urgency of an ambulance and made him drop everything.

“My mom let me take her car, mine’s still in for repair, come with me, there’s somewhere I’d like to take you,” he says, excitement bustling in his veins.

Hoseok almost swallows his tongue. “Wait, you got a driving license? Since when?”

Hyunwoo pushes him in the direction of the doors. “I’ll tell you later, just come with me.”

“But my clothes-”

“They’re fine, your overalls are cute, let’s go.”

He settles in the passenger seat with boots he’d managed to switch for slippers at the last second. Hyunwoo takes the steering wheel and pulls out, the road rocky with bumps in the tarmac.

“I can’t believe you haven’t told me about this,” Hoseok says, “I do remember this was on your bucket list. When did you cross it off?”

“Back in January I think, mom wanted me to get one in case it came in handy.” His jaw is sharply defined in the low afternoon sun, eyes hooded and creasing in a cat line. His arms bulge when he turns the steering wheel, white shirt hugging his chest. Hoseok turns his eyes before he gets caught staring.

“I’m sad I couldn’t be there for you when you took the test,” Hoseok says mournfully, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep my promise.”

Hyunwoo, at some point in their childhood days, had grown a fear of riding in a car, so acute Hyunwoo’s mother once had to pull up in the middle of the road so he could run out and dry heave by a tree. It started happening months after his father’s death, and it persisted for years, the shock not letting off till recent times.

Hoseok feels awful for missing out on this. That was Hyunwoo’s biggest fear, and he overcame it on his own when Hoseok promised to be by his side.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, we’re not kids anymore, life happens Hoseokkie.”

Hoseok watches the rushing green foliage for the rest of the ride.

“This is definitely not the place I’ve had in mind,” Hoseok says and rolls the lollipop in his mouth, lets it clink against his teeth, strawberry flavored, so sour it’s making his ears sing.

“What did _you_ have in mind?” Hyunwoo asks, fishing something out of the paper bag.

“I don’t know, anything but a drive-in cinema, I didn’t know one existed on this part of town.” There aren’t many cars around, and the lot is clean with tree leaves brushing the roof of the car. Some rustling comes from his left and Hoseok turns around at the noise. His eyes inflate three times their size, and he almost loses his lollipop, catching himself from drooling. “Hyunwoo, where did you find _those_?”

Hoseok doesn’t remember the last time he gazed upon one of those candies. They used to snack on them 24/7 as kids, Hyunwoo and he. They literally shaped Hoseok’s childhood, gave him cavities and toothaches and landed him one too many times in the dentist’s office.

“I thought they were discontinued,” Hoseok squeaks. “Where did you get them? And what did you have to trade in return?”

Hyunwoo laughs and tosses him one wrapped prettily in purple and pink. “They haven’t completely vanished, we just sucked at looking for them, and by the time we grew up they became something of the past.” He takes one and pops it in his mouth.

Hoseok forgoes his lollipop and grinds on his candy. Fireworks soar into his brain, it feels like getting reacquainted with a past lover of many years, the feelings never truly fading, the spark somehow surviving the long interlude.

Hyunwoo nudges him. “Don’t cry on me, the movie is just starting.”

Hoseok pretends to be in tears, and he tries to wrestle the rest of the candies from Hyunwoo’s hand. Hyunwoo retaliates and closes it in a tight fist, not even air could filter through his knuckles. Hoseok sucks his teeth, beats lightly on Hyunwoo’s arm and bites his wrist, but he doesn’t let up his hold.

“Oh my god, that’s such a death grip you have on my soul, give it back,” Hoseok whines.

“What soul? They’re candies.”

“Candies that encapsulate my whole being into them, I need my soul back.” Hoseok then, while leaning over his seat, hits the stick shift and Hyunwoo accidently steps on the gas and they hurtle forward and almost crash into the car parked in the front.

The brakes screech like a poor wounded animal. Hoseok slams into the glove box and freezes there. Hyunwoo loses all color, plastered to his seat, immobile as a grave.

People peer at them curiously, but the person in the victimized car remains clueless, waiting like the rest of them for the damned movie to start, it’s been thirty minutes already.

Hyunwoo is first to get resurrected. “Holy shit, mom would’ve disowned me for that, Hoseokkie, you alive there?”

Hoseok answers with loud laughter and a bleeding nose. Hyunwoo gasps. “ _Jesus,_ ” He lets the candies drop, bunches up some tissues in his hands, holds Hoseok gently by the nape and sticks them to his nose. “Good fuck, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t panic.”

“Please don’t be concussed, what’s your name?”

“Lee Hoseok.”

“What’s mine?”

“Son Hyunwoo.”

“How many fingers do I have up?”

“Two.”

“What year of the lord is this?”

“ _Hyunwoo._ ” 

There’s a pause, then loud cheers at the countdown on the wide clear projection. With a hand around Hoseok’s wrist, Hyunwoo leans in, rests his forehead to Hoseok’s temple and laughs so hard his face turns cherry red and tears dampen the corners of his eyes.

It’s different, high-pitched, free as the winds on a September night.

It might just be the best thing he’s ever heard.

The thing about friendships is that they’re not always a consistent thing, no universal rules set on stone to serve as guide. Friendships grow, and most times they stay just that, platonic and wholesome, link strengthening throughout the months, the years, like an iron chain sturdy enough to withhold the decay from rust.

Friendships grow, but sometimes they fall apart, unravel in threads at the hems until everything is a distant memory and the act of reminiscing comes with a deep ache by the kidneys and the feeling of a fist in the throat.

Hoseok knows his fair share of both kinds, witnessed friends grow distant and others draw in close, yet nothing ever came to be as confusing as what he has with Hyunwoo.

As kids, meeting Hyunwoo on early mornings was the highlight of his days. Hoseok would sneak out with careful silent steps so as to not wake his mother, would run the meadows and plunge in rivers and have Hyunwoo scold him for being reckless _, what if the current carried you away?_ Before he plunges in as well because that’s just how it’s always been.

Being there for the other, that’s the essence of their friendship. Life isn’t always so kind, wasn’t always so kind when Hoseok’s father left one sunny day and never came back, or when Hyunwoo lost his first puppy to a snake bite and cried so much his mother offered to get him another pet but he refused and never humored that thought ever again.

Friendships grow, but sometimes that growth takes a swerve into wrong lanes and the crash is subsequent and things aren’t the same anymore.

When Hoseok left, when Hoseok decided falling off the face of earth was his only way out, doubt and regret poured over his shoulders, he spent long nights watching the ceiling, drowning in roommates’ soft snores and thinking, _I fucked up, I fucked up._

Friendships grow, but they don’t always remain just that. Somewhere along the way, a party slips, inevitable feelings sprout, Hoseok loses half his perceptions on things. Hoseok catches the first train the following day and doesn’t come home for a year.

He tries his dark grape dress shirt on, and it cascades smoothly down his chest, the sleeves flowing in air like two bat wings, three buttons undone and the rest cinched in around his waist. The colour came out nice, like lilacs in fields of a vivid green grass, the spring dew coating the buds, twinkling in the early sun.

Hoseok looks at him through the mirror, smiles and says, “It looks fine, right?”

Something is clouding his eyes, and Hoseok in that moment never hated himself more.

Hyunwoo comes around the bed, dressed in black tank top and sweat pants, his tiny star estranged on golden canvas. It’s hot and stuffy, afternoon sun grilling them alive, and Hoseok thinks it can only get better from here.

But Hyunwoo walks closer, his feet socked because he hates the feeling of sweaty soles against fuzzy carpet, his cheeks flushed like the finest wine, the black earrings always present.

Hoseok’s breath hitches. He can already hear the words in his head.

“I guess it can never be the same.”

Hyunwoo gives him a small smile, and before Hoseok can think of taking his next breath, he leaves the room without another word.

The next day, he slinks away to his grandparents’ home and never turns back.

 **_hyunwoo >>> hoseok._ **  
_it’s okay, we can stop pretending_

Hoseok doesn’t mention this often, but his first kiss was actually with his childhood best friend, Hyunwoo.

He was twelve then, just starting secondary school, nearing his growth spurt. Hoseok has always been a curious child, has always loved asking questions, even about the most mundane things. Thankfully, his mother was very patient with him and always answered him with clear detailed explanations, never shut his curiosity off like he’d seen so many adults do with their kids.

Hoseok is curious, but even then he knew he couldn’t ask his mother this.

“Hyunwoo, did you have your first kiss yet?”

They were sitting on a wide tree branch deep into the forest, the sun kind on their skin and the breeze rustling leaves and tickling dampened shirts. Hyunwoo had his eyes closed, his face facing a cloudless sky. He was already getting taller, and Hoseok never failed to lament to him about how he’s not catching up, how he’s going to stay looking like a kid and Hyunwoo will soon get to look like an adult.

Hoseok had his legs hanging in the air, fingers and palms stained with dark ink post a failed attempt at sketching centaurs and chimeras from memory. 

“Yes, why are you asking?”

Hoseok almost fell off the tree in a sudden burst of excitement. “How was it? Who was it with? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyunwoo held his hands up to calm him. “Careful, you’ll throw me off the tree, and it was nothing special, it didn’t feel that great.”

“Tell me more.”

Hyunwoo sat with him, let his legs hang in the air beside his. Hyunwoo’s knees were deeply bruised from that time he’d fallen off his speeding bike and had dislocated his shoulder and busted his knees (still one of the scariest moments in Hoseok’s life).

“It was with my classmate, Lisa. She’s cute but it felt like a press of skin and nothing more,” he said while picking at a leave and twirling it around his finger. “And I think she felt the same, because she laughed it off and told me it would be better if we just stay friends.”

“That’s –really sad, I’m sorry,” Hoseok said with a pout.

“It’s fine, I’m glad we’re friends again, I can go back to stealing her bread and she can go back to cuffing me on the head.”

“So, it was nothing like the books claimed?”

Hyunwoo shook his head. “No, sorry Hoseokkie.”

His disappointment showed immediately on his face. Hyunwoo nudged him and poked his cheeks. “Come on, don’t be sad, I always knew fireworks and flowers could never show out of nowhere, it’s not realistic.”

“Love isn’t supposed to be realistic.”

“And it’s just my own experience, I’m sure it must be different for everyone.”

The idea then tumbled uninvited into Hoseok’s head and took root like a stubborn parasite. Hoseok couldn’t shake it off, so the thought stumbled out in one single syllable.

“What?” Hyunwoo asked.

“You said it’s different for everyone, why not try it with me?” Hoseok was so nervous his hands trembled in his lap, his throat went dry, he felt like a fish washed ashore, flapping for oxygen.

Hyunwoo frowned. “But we’re two guys.”

“So? Different isn’t always bad. Mom told me a guy and a guy, or a girl and a girl can be together too. Hyunwoo, it’s fine.”

After a while, Hyunwoo nodded his consent.

True to his word, no fireworks went off in the sky, neither flower petals rained down on them from the peak of the tree. The kiss felt fast, probably no more than ten seconds, but Hoseok trembled so bad he almost slipped to the ground and Hyunwoo steadied him by reflex. 

“Woah, you okay? you scared me.”

Hoseok couldn’t look Hyunwoo in the eyes for almost three days, but things soon went back to normal and no one evoked that memory since.

He thought more about that day in his later teens, in the comfort of his room, the moon a dip of golden dust, the sky the brightest it’s ever been.

Exactly one year ago, the boy Hoseok loves more than anything in the world trusted him with his heart and confessed to him.

They were just heading back from a summer festival, high with adrenaline and the great amount of sugary intake running in their system. Hoseok ate to his heart’s content since it was Hyunwoo’s treat, ran from stall to stall and dragged him along to make him win the games, Hoseok never had much luck with the claw machine. Hyunwoo, on the other hand, won them three teddy bears successively.

It was a humid and hot, the air sticky with heat. Hoseok didn’t hesitate to dump half a water bottle over his own head, the rest he chased after Hyunwoo with and poured down his back. His laughs could have been heard oceans away.

So, they were going home, tired with sore feet, winded from excessive laughter, Hoseok hanging onto Hyunwoo’s arm up hills and down deserted roads, night bugs creaking in the bushes and upholding their own private concert. It was just getting cool, the heat dwindling to something more bearable.

They could see their homes from a distant, and the festival was already starting to feel like a fever dream. Hoseok’s eyelids hung heavy with exhaustion on his face, growing sluggish with each step, but everything in him shook awake when Hyunwoo casually poured out the content of his heart by a black van, shirt still damp with occasional droplets thumping the asphalt.

Hoseok felt a surge of sickness rising in him, he had to close his eyes and take a breather. Here, before him, stood his best friend, his dearest, dearest best friend of almost fifteen years, confessing Hoseok’s fear, the thing he’d been burying under globs of mud and sand.

“Maybe, we should just stay friends, Hyunwoo,” Hoseok had said, took the train the next morning, cried the whole way to campus.

It’s been one week since Hyunwoo’s left the town.

Hoseok sits outside on the swing, Yeorum curled asleep in a tight ball on his lap. She hadn’t left his side the whole time he’d been moping on his bed or over the living’s room couch, would even lick his hand or nap on his throat and purr in his skull.

His mother is watering her plants, fretting over some broken leaves and damaged roots, the culprit deep in their sleep. Hoseok notices a tiny flower sprouting from the snake plants. “I didn’t know they could grow flowers,” he says.

She thumbs at the leaves “They almost never do, I guess I got lucky with this one,” she says and looks at him with a displeased expression on her face. “Have you tried calling him?”

Hoseok feels a sudden rush of stifling heat to his throat. “His phone is out of service, I can’t reach him.” 

She hums and walks around, inspects closely her plants, then says, “What about last year? Have you tried contacting him once?”

Hoseok doesn’t answer. Yeorum wakes up from her nap and hops down his lap to stretch on the floor. Hoseok rests his elbows on his knees and glares stubbornly at the closest pot to his right with blooming saplings. The swing jostles with her additional weight, lavender fuming in air, her favorite scent. Hoseok associates it with home, had bought the same perfume to comfort him in the longest nights.

She runs her fingers through his hair and rubs his back, tone of voice gentle. “You know, I’ve always thought you two boys have a very special bond, since you were kids, and you became friends in two days, inseparable I had to drag you home crying more times than I can count.”

Hoseok swallows through a parched throat.

Friendships grow, but the one he has with Hyunwoo completely spiraled, Hoseok couldn’t keep up, terrified of his own feelings, he decided to withdraw.

Hoseok has many regrets. This one sits at the top.

“Watching you grow up together, I knew this is something that could never be replaced.”

Try as he might, Hoseok can no longer suppress the tears. “I messed up, mom, I messed up so bad, I knew it from the moment I boarded the train, I shouldn’t have left like that, I shouldn’t have disappeared, I –I love his so much, I shouldn’t –”

Hyunwoo called him, but he never answered. Hyunwoo texted him, but he never texted back.

He sits sobbing like a child, and his mother rubs the back of his head. “It’s scary, baby I know, but for how long will you keep running? How long will it be before you lose this for good? It might not feel like the right time, but when will that ever be?

“Hyunwoo is a sweet boy,” she says, “and every time he returned home on a school break, he would sit here, watch the door and wait for you to come home, too.”

Hoseok cries harder, wisps untangle in his sternum, and the pressure eases.

“It’s okay, baby, you’ll be okay. Go wash your face, drink your milk, and when he’s back, maybe try talking with him again.”

**hoseok >>> hyunwoo.**  
i’m sorry  
i’m so sorry, please come back  
hyunwoo please

But Hyunwoo never shows up in the next two weeks, and soon it’s time for Hoseok to leave for college.

He doesn’t cry this time. He just sits watching the world whisk by, autumn leaves raining orange and gold over rooftops and abandoned intricately sculptured fountains, the sky grey, sunshine barely filtering through the clouds.

The school year starts and he gets into the same habits of overworking his fingers to the bone, his assignments done on the same day, his projects never falling to deadlines, and when nothing seems to take his mind away, he goes on walks and sits on benches, sketches for hours and hours until the cold numbs his fingers and forces him back to the dorms.

“Hyung, you’re making me sad,” Minhyuk says and falls over him on his bed.

Hoseok groans. “Ow my kidney, what do you mean?”

Minhyuk drapes arms and legs over Hoseok, it feels like getting tangled in a spider’s web. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like you’re carrying the weight of the whole population’s problems. You don’t even laugh the same anymore.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t notice.”

“Is there something that could cheer you up? A billion won? A romantic trip to France? Kihyunnie’s limited edition notebooks?”

“Hey!” Kihyun shouts from the bathroom.

Hoseok smiles. “Actually, there’s something I’ve had in mind for a while.” 

The days trickle in a stream, and Hoseok finds himself in a group’s favorite café with an armada of papers worthy of material to memorize. Art school might be fun, but this part does not classify as such. Sometimes, Hoseok contemplates cracking his skull open to make sure his brain hasn’t shrunk to the size of a bean. Every word he tries to glue to memory wilts away in the span of a minute.

He’s sitting in an open space with vines riffling like the Angel’s wings, sun veiled behind cotton clouds, and he drowns in his big warm coat. There’s light chattering in the background, two girls deep in their conversations, paying no heed to the wind.

Hoseok decides ten more minutes and he’s going home. Kihyun is cooking them a very nice meal later in the day and he promised to pick up some bread and ice cream tubs.

A shuffle of leaves comes from behind. Someone takes the chair next to his, their strong perfume achingly familiar.

Hoseok’s temperature shoots up, his palms turn into sweat glands, and the veins in his neck throb.

He takes a very deep breath, and says, “Hi, this place missed, Hyunwoo.”

“Hi,” he answers, “I missed you, too.”

 _‘Oh, god,_ ’ Hoseok mumbles, the heat already rushing to his eyes and ears. Hyunwoo’s hand rests on the table, and on the side of his ring finger is tattooed a tiny circle beside a tiny heart.

Hyunwoo notices him staring. “Oh these,” he says, “I’ve always loved finger tattoos, obviously I can’t get anything big, mom keeps telling me that could ruin my chances at getting a job.”

Hoseok holds himself back from touching his hand, from feeling the inked skin. “But a heart? Hyunwoo, that’s –that’s adorable, that’s so adorable I’m gonna cry.”

Hyunwoo laughs, and Hoseok closes his eyes for a second. Slowly, he peels his coat off, pushes his right sleeve up, and when he finally gathers the courage to look at him – _to properly look at him_ –Hoseok’s whole body quivers with restrained tears.

“I’ve got this done too,” Hoseok says, “I-I might’ve had you in mind while in the process of sketching the design.”

Because right in the center of his inner arm is a bear trotting between pine trees, the mountains looking so much like the ones from their home town, forever seared into his retinas.

Unlike him, Hyunwoo does reach for his arm, traces his skin with care, his eyes turning glassy. “You think I’m a bear?”

“Everyone thinks you’re a bear,” Hoseok says. “Our moms think you’re a bear, and I’m the gullible rabbit following after your trail.”

“You’re not gullible,” he says, gives the tattoo a final caress and pushes Hoseok’s sleeve down. Instead of letting go, he cages Hoseok’s hand in both his, the tiny heart winking at him. “Hoseokkie, I –I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you owe me absolutely nothing, it was my mistake, just because I thought –just because I was reading too much into whatever we had together, just because I took your feelings for granted-”

“Except, you weren’t reading too much into anything,” Hoseok cuts him off, “Except, my feelings for you mirrored yours at the time. Except –except I’ve always loved you, and I will always love you, more than words can define, what I did was really shitty, I shouldn’t have disappeared just like that, I wish I’d handled it better, but I’ve never been so terrified of anything before, it’s so stupid I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not,” Hyunwoo says. “It’s not stupid at all, actually I almost puked because of nerves when I confessed that night.”

Hoseok cracks a smile and lowers his head. He notices the girls have already left and it’s only them around.

“I was so nervous,” Hyunwoo continues. “You’re my most treasured person in the world, I’ve known you for fifteen years, and I wouldn’t mind knowing you for a thousand more.”

Hoseok chokes on a laugh. “Jesus, you’ll make me cry, I really, _really_ love you, Hyunwoo. I could tattoo that on my forehead, if you want.”

Hyunwoo smiles. “The bear is fine, did you tell auntie about the price? It looks expensive.”

“Ah, about that, I told her last week,” Hoseok pauses, “She had a stroke.”

Hyunwoo laughs, light and giggly, Hoseok leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth. Hyunwoo abandons his chair and forces him up by the shoulders, draws him in a tight hug and Hoseok feels the longing in his sternum, feels wasps stinging his eyes and buzzing in his skull. He buries his face in Hyunwoo’s shoulder, embraces him back with the same fervor and doesn’t let go for another five minutes, or five hours, or five years. It’s home. Hyunwoo’s his home.

Hyunwoo kisses his forehead. “I love you, bunny ears.”

“So it turned out getting an internship somewhere near your campus was damn near impossible,” Hyunwoo says, his breath condensing into misty clouds. “I’m glad I persisted though.”

“How did you find me?” Hoseok asks. 

“I’m actually rooming together with Hyungwon. He’s good friends with one of your roommates, Minhyuk, right?”

Hoseok nods.

“Minhyuk relayed to him your whereabouts and I came running to you and almost got lost.”

Hoseok giggles and gives Hyunwoo’s hand a light squeeze. “It took us long enough.”

“Yeah.” Hyunwoo looks down, and Hoseok abandons Hyunwoo’s hand and loops an arm around his waist. Their feet carry them comfortably down the street until Hoseok’s phone buzzes against his thigh.

“Oh, Kihyunnie–”

“Hyung, where are you? It’s been an hour, please tell me you’re alive, at least.”

“Calm down, I’m fine, it’s just,” Hoseok pauses, looks at Hyunwoo for a while. “Would adding a person be too bothersome?”

“No,” Kihyun says. “I’ve cooked enough for Achilles and the myrmidons. A friend?”

He rises on tiptoes and plants a brief, soft kiss on Hyunwoo’s lips.

“Something like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> june was a wild month, i'm glad i survived ✌️ (my profs could like, choke on a six feet long cactus, wlad l9hab)
> 
> i hope you're having a fantastic summer, thank you so much for reading ♡♡♡


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